


The Handmaid's Tale

by kawaiitickles



Category: A Handmaid's Tale - Fandom, Game Grumps, Ninja Sex Party - Fandom, Starbomb
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Master/Slave, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 10:36:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11251377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawaiitickles/pseuds/kawaiitickles
Summary: The birthrate has dropped dramatically and now what formally was the United States is ruled by twisted fundamentalists that want to return to traditional Christian values. Only a few fertile women remain, you being one of them. You serve under the Townlands with their Martha, Sandi, and their driver, Daniel.This story is based off of The Handmaids Tale, a Hulu original. I am also currently reading the book written by Margaret Atwood.





	The Handmaid's Tale

_ You weren’t sure if your foot slipped or if you had thrown yourself into the Detroit River but the second your body smacked against the freezing water you wondered if drowning would be a much better fate than anything that would be there when you reached the surface. But that damn Adrenalin was a cold hearted bitch. _

 

_ The cold, winter air filled your lungs and your arms pulled yourself up, trying to grasp the waves. You had to swim. You pushed yourself through the slushy waters as hard as you could, not looking back at the screaming voices coming from the shore behind you. The waves pulled you under time after time, your fight growing weaker with every breath you couldn’t catch. Ontario was just across the river. Freedom was just across the river. _

 

_ You felt like you had swam for ages when they had scooped your almost frozen body out, their hands like fire, grabbing at you, throwing you onto the boat deck. You shook violently, your body grasping for any warmth but they let you lay there in your wet clothes as they drove you back to the American shore. They looked at you like lost cattle, needing to be punished for leaving its cage. And truthfully, that’s all you were to them. Cattle. That’s what all fertile women were now. _

 

_ They dragged you off by your hair causing you to cry out. Begging for them to stop. But the black coats were just following orders, or maybe they got enjoyment out of this. They hid their faces so well, there was no way to tell. “Please”, you cried as they shoved you into the back of the van. You clawed at them with the little fight you had left, trying to free yourself. _

 

_ You got one last glance at Detroit, the gray skies, the blood stained snow where your dead husband's body lay, Canada taunting you from the other side of the river. This is how you would remember your home. This is how you would remember your last day or freedom. _

 

 

 

 

There was a small thread that would tickle your wrist as you would walk on the sleeve of your red dress. You hated that thing. You constantly chewed at it when no one was looking. You were very careful about it. The few times you had been caught you received a lashing. It was un-lady like. When people were looking you would cross your hands, bow your head and twirl it between your thin fingers. You would stand there modestly, giving your “respect” to everyone that walked by just as you were taught.

 

“Praise be.” A beautiful woman, in blue, walked in the room and smiled at you. Behind her, her Martha, a glorified maid, dressed in dull green. You gave a faint smile and nodded your head.

 

“Praise be. It’s nice to meet you, Ma’am.” You spoke quietly trying to hide the shaking in your voice. Only speak when spoken to, you reminded yourself. She looked at you unsure of what to do next. There was a long silence.

 

“You may sit.” She gestured t owards the couch behind you. You assumed this to be their living room. It was spacious with bare, dull walls surrounding it. There was nothing making it personal, no pictures or memories. Just a small vase with flowers you recognized from the garden coming in. “I don’t make a practice of it but just this one time.” She cleared her throat, looking for the words to say. “So, this is your second posting? The Darmstain’s didn’t work out?”

 

“No, ma’am.” You answered.

 

“Do then you know what you’re doing. Good, our last Handmaid was brand new. It was like training a dog, only not a very smart one.” Her words were cold but you smiled anyways. They were right, they were always right, even if they were wrong. “I expect you know the rules.”

 

“Yes, Ma’am.”

 

“Don’t call me Ma’am. You are not a Martha.” Your heart sank at the feeling of doing something wrong, doing something wrong usually meant punishment.

 

Another throat cleared from the doorway on the other side of the room, you looked over to see a well-dressed man entering. You stood up and bowed your head. He was taller than the last Man of the house you served. Much younger too. He had broad shoulders and a proud face that was clean shaven.

 

“Dear, you’re early.” The woman in blue smiled at her husband. “This is the new one.”

 

“Hello.” His voice was much more kind, soft. Almost as if he cared. “Blessed be the fruit.”

 

“May the lord open.” An answer that had been burned into your head, a bible scripture that Handmaids lived by. Forced to live by, rather.

 

“I’m Commander Townland.” He introduced himself. A commander, a higher rank than last time. He was powerful.

 

“Praised be to you, may God make me truly worthy.” Those words left a rotten taste in your mouth every time you recited them.  

 

“Right. Well. Good. Nice to meet you.” He smiled at you awkwardly before kissing his wife on the cheek. He nodded at the Martha who save a soft bow. He left the room leaving an uneasy feeling in the air. You balanced on the heels of your feet as the silence strangled you.

 

“I want to see as little of you as possible.” Mrs. Townland hissed, making you miss the Commanders soft words. “He is my husband, until death do us part. Don’t get any ideas. If you give me trouble, I can make your life a living Hell. Do you understand me?” She talked to you as if you were a child learning a lesson. You clenched your fist, holding in your fear as she walked out of the room, her heels tapping against the hardwood. As she closed the door behind you, you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in.

 

You pulled at the string while you watched the red dressed flow into the streets as the noon bell rung. The handmaids were now allowed out of the house. Amongst them were a few Martha’s going out to do their daily chores and Eye’s keeping watch over everyone, guns casually draped over their shoulders.

 

You tied your hair up and placed your bonnet over your head before leaving your small room. The house was quiet, only your footsteps down the creaky stairs made sound. You hated the quiet, it always made you feel uneasy.

 

In the kitchen Sandi made bread, flour covering her dull green dress. The Martha’s hand made almost everything, it was more traditional. Traditional is what the government strived for now a days. She reminded you almost of some pictures you remember from back in grade school of the Amish, but you imagined you looked like that too, with the long red dress and a bonnet. Of course mirrors were forbidden to handmaids. Being worried about appearance was pointless when all you were there to do was reproduce.

 

“Let me get your food tickets.” Sandi dropped her dough on the counter and wiped her hands on her apron. You smiled at her, silently thanking her. You zoned out as she started listing off the things the house needed from the store. The smell of bread danced around you, making you miss the old bakery down the street from your house. You used to walk there with your sister when your mother said she needed some peace and quiet. In reality, she was selling her body to the highest bidder and needed the kids out of the house so she could make some quick cash, but you enjoyed the time with your sibling. She was younger, too young to understand. She would sing while you walked, always a few steps ahead but you would never let go of her hand. She was the light of your life.

 

“OfLee.” You blinked back to reality at your pet name.

 

“Hmm?” You hummed, taking the tickets from her.

 

“Don’t be late. You have ceremony tonight.” Sandi said as she went back to her bread. You nodded and gathered you coat.

 

Handmaid’s names were taken away while they were being trained. They were given the name of the man they were serving. Of, meaning they serve, and their man. Of Lee Townland. OfLee. It made you a little less human, made it easier to treat you like you were property.

 

Your hand ran gently down the rain as you made your way down the stairs and into the garden. You found happiness in the little things, like balancing on the stone pathway and gathering little bits of dew on your fingertips. It always left you with a small smile.

 

“Good morning.” Daniel, The Commander's driver, a low class male, walked down from his home above the garage. His black attire fit him well, hugging at his tall, fit figure. You watched him walk over to you, hands in his pockets.

 

“Peace be with you.” You whispered, bowing your head.

 

“Are you going shopping?” He asked, running a hand through his brown, curly hair. You bit your lip holding back a snarky comment, he knew damn well there wasn’t much other for a handmaid to do. “If you’re going to the fish market, you may want to avoid the tuna, I heard they were high in mercury this week.”

 

“I’m going to the deli, actually.” You watched him run a hand over his stubbly jaw, thinking.

 

“Well then you should avoid red meats.”

 

“Why’s that?” You asked.

 

“They mess with my stomach.” He laughed. You liked to watch him laugh, it seemed if he was the only one who remembered how to anymore. But maybe he had a reason not to be afraid to laugh. Maybe he was an Eye.

 

“Under his eye.” You avoided eye contact, walking away.

 

“Under his eye.” He called back to you. You rolled that thread between your fingers, easing your mind of an Eye living in your household. As long as you didn’t do anything wrong, you had no reason to be afraid. But that was easier said than done. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to AxolotlNerd for reading this over for me. The first couple chapters will follow the show very closely but once I have everything explained better I will be able to branch off and do my own thing. Much more will be explained in the next few chapters so if you have any questions ask away because I'm not sure if this is confusing or not and I would love to be able to answer them for others in the next chapter. Thanks for reading! You can find me on Tumblr at FandomToaster- I would love some more story ideas!


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